


Forces Stronger Than Evil

by SemperAeternumQue



Series: Pyren Brothers AU [3]
Category: Keeper of the Lost Cities Series - Shannon Messenger
Genre: Angst, Bronte is not having a good week, Elwin is probably regretting his life choices, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of Angst, No beta we die like Kenric, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Swearing, The Author Regrets Nothing, bronte isn't having a good life really, do I ever write anything but angst? not really, fintan is a fucking idiot, i don't like emery and it shows, i let my friends read this and they screamed about angst so it must be good, i'm pretty sure I made someone cry with this, is bronte ever having a good week though, let oralie say fuck 2k20, nothing says fun like having two councillors crying in your healing wing, or a good series of weeks actually, oralie deserves to say fuck, the POWER of SIBLING LOVE, the rest of the council is there for like 3 seconds, this is literally all about the power of people caring about each other, yes it's a cliche no i don't care, you shouldn't expect me to have regrets at this point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-23 02:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23004208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SemperAeternumQue/pseuds/SemperAeternumQue
Summary: Bronte is captured by the Neverseen.It takes the efforts of a brother and a best friend to pull him out of the dark. Literally and figuratively.Not technically compliant with the Pyren Brothers AU plotline, but Fintan and Bronte *are* brothers in this, and their Pyren Brothers AU backstory still applies.
Relationships: Councillor Bronte & Councillor Oralie, Councillor Bronte & Fintan Pyren
Series: Pyren Brothers AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648879
Comments: 12
Kudos: 18





	1. Neverseen Members and Idiot Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> Hello folks and welcome to angst hour with Semp, featuring my favorite elf to torture: Bronte! (Actually, it might be a tie between Bronte and Elrond, but Bronte is my favorite kotlc elf to torture.)
> 
> Anyways so I know it jumps right in with very little context, this was because I was too lazy to write what comes before this bit. I'll get it done someday, probably. For now, enjoy this angst!

"He isn't talking."

"Just won't tell us a thing, and my telepathy hasn't been doing much either."

The voices were familiar by now, these Neverseen members who had been tormenting him for the past...however long it had been since his capture. The same boring, scratchy-voiced pyrokinetic and the silky-voiced telepath who had tried to break into his mind a few times. The fool underestimated the strength of an Ancient mind.

Bronte couldn't help but flinch as a new person spoke, the voice terribly, horribly familiar. "Even your telepathy will do nothing against the mind of an Ancient, Gethen. Leave him to me." _Fintan_.

"But-" The other pyrokinetic, the one with the scratchy voice, protested.

"I said, _leave him to me_. I know his weaknesses, and talented as you are, you haven't had my many years of practice."

"Yes sir," Both of the usual ones mumbled. Bronte heard the click of the cell door as they left, and then soft footsteps as Fintan approached him.

"Fintan-" He started, already bracing himself for the stinging pain of burns as Fintan leaned close enough that Bronte could feel the warmth of flames.

"Shut the _fuck_ up," Fintan hissed in his ear. "I'm getting you out of here, but you need to stay quiet."

The ropes binding Bronte dropped off his wrists, burned through by Fintan's fire and quickly followed by the ropes around his ankles.

"Can you walk?" Fintan asked softly.

Bronte managed to find the strength to shake his head.

"Shit. Hold on to me and _don't let go_."

Bronte did as his younger brother asked, hardly daring to believe this could be real as Fintan carried him out of the hideout, hissing curse words under his breath occasionally. Finally, they were outside, and Fintan hissed at him to _concentrate_ as a beam of light swept them both away.

They reformed somewhere cold and windy, and Bronte shivered as Fintan set him down on what felt like stone. He could hear the crashing of waves somewhere nearby as Fintan’s slim fingers unknotted his blindfold. He blinked his eyes open slowly, knowing the light would be jarring after days (weeks? Months?) in darkness. Thankfully, the cave they were in was relatively dim, giving his eyes time to adjust as he focused on the elf next to him.

Fintan looked so much older than even the last time Bronte had seen him, his face weary and scarred. Now more than ever, Bronte could see why people had always said they looked alike. He had never seen it before. Fintan’s face had always seemed more bright and youthful, the flame of his spirit shining through, while Bronte’s was worn and tired even at a young age. Now, they could almost have passed for identical twins if it wasn’t for the difference in hair color. Even Fintan’s sigh as he pulled out a small tin of burn salve from his cloak seemed beaten-down.

“Are you okay?” He asked, not meeting Bronte’s eyes.

“In a lot of pain, but yes.”

Fintan winced and began to apply the salve to the worst of his burns. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. You saved my life.”

“I should have done something sooner. I-I didn’t know they had you, all I knew was that there was an important prisoner.”

It was getting harder to focus through the pain and the cold, but Bronte made an effort anyways. If he could survive however long with the Neverseen and tell them nothing, he could focus on this conversation. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is. It’s all my fault, and I’m sorry.”

Bronte could feel himself slipping away as the cuts and burns all over him throbbed in agony. “I can’t stay- any longer.”

“No. No. You have to stay awake. Please. Stay with me!” Fintan cried.

Bronte’s eyes were sliding towards sleep. “I-I’m sorry…”

“NO. You have to stay awake! Please! You have to live, you bastard. After all the effort I put into rescuing you, you have to live.” Fintan’s voice sounded choked with tears, and Bronte tried his best to reassure the other.

“I’m not dying…I’m just tired, Fintan. Let me rest.”

Fintan’s eyes were filled with fear. “No! You’ll-if you pass out now you’ll stop fighting and I’m going to lose you!”

Bronte did his best to smile. “It’s going to be okay, Fintan.”

The world went dark.

* * *

Fintan could only watch in horror as Bronte’s eyes slide shut and he went limp in Fintan’s arms.

“No! No fuck fuck fuck no Bronte wake up please-“ He begged.

Silence.

“Fuck fuck shit please Bronte you can’t- you can’t die you- shithead!” Fintan let his head fall and choked on a small sob. “Fuck.”

Bronte wasn’t going to die. Bronte couldn’t die. Fintan wouldn’t let it happen. He cradled his brother more firmly, and climbed to his feet, still swearing under his breath as he retrieved his pathfinder. There was no doubt as to where he would go, even if it was a terrible decision.

Fintan arrived in Eternalia, and instantly sprinted for Oralie’s castle, pounding on the door as hard as he could. There was no reply, and after a moment he turned to see the the certain flag flying over Tribunal Hall.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fucking shit.” _I guess it’s time to barge into a Tribunal._

He ran for the hall, hardly even feeling the tiredness of his limbs as he held Bronte tightly. It was a matter of seconds to throw the doors open with his mind, and go running into the hall, skidding to a stop in front of the Council.

“What the fuck?”

“Please- I- Bronte is dying. Please save him, you can do whatever you want with me. I’ll turn myself in. Please,” Fintan begged, “Just help him.”

Unsurprisingly, Emery opened his mouth first. “What did you say?”

“He said that he’ll turn himself in, are you deaf?” Clarette demanded.

Emery sputtered as half the Council immediately burst out arguing.

“Please,” Fintan tried again. “He’s hurt! I'll-I’ll tell you how to find and unlock my cache! I- please just - I can't lose him- please help-"

Very surprisingly, Oralie cut off the rest of the Council. “All of you shut up! Do you think we need motivation to help Bronte?” She asked, glowering at Fintan.

“N-“

Oralie cut him off again. "Give him to me. I’ll get him to Elwin.”

Emery sighed. “Oralie we’re in the-“

“My best friend’s life is in danger. I don’t give a single flying fuck, Emery.”

Fintan handed Bronte over with shaking hands, trying not to break down sobbing in front of everyone. Although that might have been moot, given that he had just begged for Bronte’s life. He watched helplessly as Oralie held up a Pathfinder, carrying his brother's limp form.

She glittered away, taking Bronte with her, and Fintan sagged to the ground, sapped of his remaining strength. Bronte would be okay. Bronte would be okay. He repeated that to himself as if it would make those words true.

When the goblins came, Fintan let them take him away with no resistance. All the fight had left him. He had gotten his brother to safety, and that was all that mattered.

Bronte was all that mattered, now.


	2. Good Best Friends and Very Tired Doctors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO EVERYONE AND WELCOME BACK TO ANGST HOUR WITH SEMP
> 
> So I did say I would post chapter two as a celebration when I was done with midterms and guess what? I'M DONE WITH MIDTERMS!
> 
> So here's chapter two! It also hurts a lot! Be prepared! (I don't know where all this energy is coming from, I've been tired all day, but I'm EXCITED.)
> 
> Ok so warnings for....generally Bronte being very fucked up, not sure what else to say. He's having a bad week. ...Month. Year. Life. He's having a bad life.

When Bronte woke up, he was most decidedly not still in the cave where he had fallen asleep. For one thing, he appeared to be in a proper bed. The area he was in was crisp and clean, with several other beds nearby, and much brighter and warmer than that cave by the ocean. Also, everything didn’t hurt nearly as much as before.

He had the strange feeling that something was missing, but he couldn’t pin down what it was. Someone had been with him… _Fintan_!

Bronte sat up quickly, regretting it as his body screamed in agony. “Fintan!”

He heard footsteps, but it wasn’t Fintan that came hurrying over. Instead, Elwin arrived, looking concerned.

“You’re awake!”

Bronte resisted the urge to grump at him, instead wincing as his many burns stung. “Where’s Fintan?”

Elwin shrugged. “No one tells me anything. Are you in pain?”

“I’m fine,” Bronte said, although everything still hurt from sitting up so quickly. “I need to find Fintan.” He tried to get out of bed, but Elwin pushed him back down.

“You’re not going anywhere, calm down. You almost died. Bullhorn was screaming the second you got in here, and you’ve been passed out for almost a week.” Elwin could clearly tell that Bronte was going to get up again the second Elwin turned his back, so he wisely didn’t look away for even a moment. “If I get Oralie in here to explain everything, will you calm down and let me take a look at your injuries?”

Bronte considered it for a moment. On one hand, he needed to get to Fintan. On the other, Oralie would know much more than Elwin about what was going on, and he hadn’t seen her in too long. “Alright.”

He let Elwin fuss and check and flash varying colors of light all around him, until finally he declared “Healing well! Alright, I’ll hail Oralie,” he added, seeing Bronte’s glare.

Bronte somehow managed to wait patiently as Elwin hailed Oralie.

“What? I’ll be there in five minutes. No, I don’t care that we’re in the middle of something, Emery. Bronte is awake, and I’m going to go visit.”

It was a few minutes later that Oralie rushed in the door, barely stopping to acknowledge Elwin before she made her way to Bronte’s side, throwing her arms around him. Bronte tried not to flinch in pain as she accidentally touched one of the larger burns, and hugged her back.

After a few moments, he noticed that she was shaking. “Oralie? Are you okay?”

“We- we thought you were gone. Dead. Like…” _Like Kenric,_ Bronte knew followed that.

“You were missing and we searched and searched but nothing and then Fintan showed up, carrying you and- I thought you were dead at first, you were so limp and bloody-“ She broke off. “He begged us to save you. Begged. I took you to Elwin and Bullhorn started screaming and screaming the second we walked in the door. I thought I was going to lose you.” _Like Kenric_.

“It’s alright,” He reassured, surprising himself at the roughness of his voice. “I’m here now. And I’m too damn stubborn to die.”

Oralie made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “True.”

“What…where is Fintan now?” He asked, bracing himself for the news that Fintan had left him again, was back with the Neverseen.

The pity on Oralie’s face was nowhere near reassuring.

“He’s been captured,” She said softly. “He bargained his freedom so we would help you- not that we needed incentive to, but he turned himself in. His only condition was that we help you.”

_No. No. Fintan, you idiot._

He didn’t realize he had spoken out loud until Oralie was wrapping her arms around him again, gentle and comforting. “I made sure we didn’t do anything besides lock him safely away until you were awake to offer input.”

Bronte knew how much of a gesture that was, how much hurt Fintan had dealt Oralie, and how hard it would have been for her to do that. There was no way he could have properly conveyed how thankful he was in words, so he simply hugged her tighter.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

They passed another moment in silence.

“Silly question, but are you okay?” Oralie asked, pulling away from their embrace briefly.

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t think you can lie to me, Bronte. You’re terrible at lying.”

Bronte sighed. “Fine. I’m not okay.”

“I didn’t expect that you would be.” She put an arm around his shoulders, offering a silent form of comfort. “It’s okay to not be okay, you know.”

“It’s not, though. I have to be strong.”

“You are strong,” Oralie promised. “That doesn’t mean you can’t also be hurting. And that doesn’t mean you don’t need help. Even the strongest person can’t do everything alone. It’s okay for you to need people, you know.”

“But-“

“No. _It’s okay to need people_. I needed you to stand beside me when Kenric died. It’s okay for you to need help. It’s okay for you to _want_ help. That’s what friends are for.”

Bronte tried to turn away, wrapping his arms around himself as if he could hold all his broken pieces together. “I’ll only hurt you.”

“Fuck that. Fuck. That.” He was surprised at the venom in her voice. “You’re hurting, I can see it. Don’t you dare tell me you’re okay, Bronte Pyren. You’re in pain. You’re struggling. It doesn’t matter if you accidentally hurt me, I can withstand more than you think. You need to heal, and I’m here for you. I care. Please, just let me _help_.” There were tears glimmering in her eyes.

Bronte refused to acknowledge that he might have also been crying, just a little. “Fine. Fine. You- I’ll let you help…I need your help.”

“And you have it. As much help as you need. I’m here. Always.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course. You’ve been here for me for so long, how could I not?” Oralie asked. “Besides,” She added, smiling a little bit sadly, “you did listen to my endless rambling about how adorable Kenric was.”

“You two were always adorable. Disasters, but adorable,” Bronte grumbled. “…don’t tell anyone I said that, it will ruin my reputation.”

Oralie’s laugh was genuine. “I don’t think anyone in the Lost Cities believes you’re the grumpy, mean elf you say you are anymore, Bronte.”

“How dare you. I am very grumpy. And very mean,” Bronte grumped fondly.

Oralie laughed again. “That would be easier to believe if you weren’t hugging me right now.” She grew serious for a moment again. “And if you weren’t one of the most legitimately kind elves I’ve ever met, and the best friend I’ve ever had.”

Bronte tried to pretend that he wasn’t tearing up at that, and mostly failed. “I insist you’re the kinder one. And you also happen to be a great friend.”

Oralie’s smile was sad. “I’m glad you think so.”

“Why would I not?”

“Nothing…just. I hope you never hate me.”

“Why the hell would I ever hate you? Is everything okay?”

Oralie shook her head, then quickly nodded. “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

Bronte had uttered those words far too many times himself to ever believe them, but he didn’t push. “I hope you know I could never hate you.”

Now, Oralie’s smile seemed almost fragile. “Thank you, Bronte.”

“Of course. Now what idiocy have the rest been getting up to while I was gone?”

“Surprisingly, not too much idiocy, but you’re going to hate the legislation Emery proposed.”

“Of course I will. It’s Emery.”

They both laughed.

It had been a long, painful….however long it had been, apart, but now, no matter how much more hurt they had ahead of them, at least Bronte was back with his best friend. Fintan might have been stuck in a Council prison somewhere, the Neverseen might have still been out there, but they were together.

The problems facing them wouldn’t be easily solved, but at least, at very least, they weren’t trying to solve them alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ORALIE IS A GOOD FRIEND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL

**Author's Note:**

> *hiding* it doesn't end here, I promise! (But I'm not posting the next chapter until next week.... *evil laughter intensifies*) 
> 
> I'm kidding I might get it up sooner than that, it depends on how busy I am. I have a midterm Friday, so I might post it in celebration (assuming I survive the midterm, that is).


End file.
